


Imagining Reality

by Neon_Monkeys



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Dark, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Fear, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Fluff, No Smut, Post-Season/Series 01, Trauma, Yuri is scared of people leaving him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17628935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neon_Monkeys/pseuds/Neon_Monkeys
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky experiences difficulty on what's reality and what's imaginary.





	Imagining Reality

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to start by thanking @fantasy_forsaken for kindly kicking my arse in gear and finally finishing this fic and convincing me to post it. While this is definitely not the first fic I have ever written, it's the first I have posted in years. So nice and constructive comments please!!!

“Yurio!”

 

_ Not again. Not again. Not again. He’s not really there. _

 

“Hey Yurio! Don’t ignore me I know your angry that I chose-” He sounded so familiar, more real this time.

 

“No! Stop it! Your not real! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” The hot warmth of acid was creeping up his throat. 

 

“Yura…  _ Koneko-chan...” _ A sliver of pain so jagged that it makes Yuri’s legs quiver and his breath rush fast.

 

“No.” Yuri was sturn this time,  _ Practiced.  _ “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t deserve to call me that.” 

 

Yuri turned around to face what he knew to be a figment of his imagination and let out a sound that ripped from his throat with such ferocity that it was crippling.  _ Just kill me already. Please. _

 

Victor Nikiforov was young or as young as he was at 30. He was also tall.  _ Victor had always been tall.  _ His hair immaculate. He hadn’t been on the ice then.  _ Not in a while. _ He was wearing his jacket, the white one with the red olympian decals. His face was all scrunched up towards his nose. Confused, hurt,  _ concerned.  _

 

“Yura!” The thumps of Victor’s shoes slapping the concrete of the skating arena were loud and the vibrations from the floor making his cheek jiggle.  _ How did I get on the floor?  _ The floor was cold and wet against his face. 

 

Yuri’s eyes were on Victor’s trainers, the worn sole, the battered laces. The soft feel of something,  _ hands?,  _ were on his body. His throat was constricting, his chest tightening, his eyes blurring.

 

*

 

There a pinging in Yuri’s head. It was sharp and whatever, whoever was causing it was going to die. He released a strangled sound of discomfort. He wanted water. 

 

“Yurochka.”  _ Dedushka. Okay maybe he wouldn’t kill the cause of the pinging. _

 

Yuri’s eye were clamped shut, crusty with dried tears. The light was going to kill him so he decided to keep his eyes shut. Yuri swung his arm in fatal attempt to knock the light away causing a retching pinch in his arm. The pinging became beeping and it got louder of all things.

“Kill it.” It was a simple request. It was all he wanted, needed.

 

“Yura, you cannot kill a machine.”

 

Yuri still had no idea where he was. He refuses to open his eyes. “Destroy it then.”

 

There is a heaving breath. “Yuri…”

 

“I don’t know why your here. I haven’t seen you in weeks.” Yuri was complaining he knew. If there was anyone he didn’t mind seeing, it was his Dedushka. 

 

“What do you mean, Yurochka? We made pirozhki l-”

 

“Don’t lie to me.” Dedushka never lied to him. 

 

Yuri turned his face towards the voice and finally opened his eyes. His heart and chest heaved in tandem as he sobbed in grief.  _ It wasn’t fair.  _ His Grandfather sat there in what was supposably a hospital chair. The starkness of the white room made his eyes ache.

 

“Shhhhh, Yurochka. There is no need to cry.”

 

_ He was wrong. _ Dedushka has been dead for nearly two years now but his heart still ached for familiarity of his Grandfather’s warmth.

 

“I miss you. Please don’t leave me again.” Yuri was begging and he  _ hated  _ that he had come to this.

 

“Your friends are outside. Otabek is worried. Yakov is here too.”

 

“O-Otabek” He was calming now.  _ Otabek. _

 

“Do you want me to send him in?”

 

“N-No. Yak-kov”

 

“Shhhhh. Of course, Yurochka.”

 

*

 

Yakov had replaced his Grandfather in the hospital chair. His Dedushka leaving and giving the two of them some privacy. Yakov was finnicking with his hands. Going between clenching his knees and coat. 

 

“Yuri, can you tell me what happened?”

“I-I saw him again.  _ Victor.”  _ Yuri felt like crying again.

 

“What do you mean, you saw Vitya?” 

 

The constriction of his throat caused his next words to come out mangled, “He’s in my head.”

 

“W-What do you mean he’s in your head?” Yakov’s voice was strained, concerned.

 

“A-After h-he d-d-ied, he never left me. He won’t leave me alone” The wetness and smell of salt was running down his face again.  _ Mess.  _

 

“Victor’s not dead, Yura.” Yakov’s face was tangled and lined with confusion.  _ What? Oh course he is. _

 

“He is. He is. I swear he is. He ju-fell off of th-that b-buildin-ing.” He was panicking. He didn’t understand.  _ Why didn’t Yakov understand? _

 

“Now, now Yura. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

 

The wetness of Yuri’s tears were gathering in his pillow and  _ fuck  _ he has to pee.

 

“You know!” Yuri was angry.  _ How dare Yakov forget them!  _ “They’ve been dead for months. He died. He left me.”  _ He’s trying to trick me.  _ He shuts his eyes. The piercing waves of pain shoot through his skull rendering all reason null. “Get out! Get out!” He sobs, “Don’t lie to me. Your just like  _ her.” _

 

“Yura-” Yakov was panicking now. Yuri hadn’t wanted to yell at him but he didn’t want to speak to liars anymore. 

 

“Beka!” 


End file.
